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CHAPTER TWO

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SETH finished the rest of his shift and then made his way to the cardiac cath labs located on the third floor, hoping he’d run into Michael. He wanted to know how their cardiac patient, Marilyn Warner, was doing.

His colleague, dressed in scrubs, walked out of the cath lab door as Seth came in. “Hey, Seth.”

“Michael.” Seth tucked his hands into the pockets of his lab coat as he turned to fall into step with Michael. “I’ve come to find out how Marilyn Warner is doing.”

“You mean our patient from this morning?” When Seth nodded, Michael grimaced. “Not so good. She needed emergency surgery, so I had to send her off to Trinity Medical Center in Milwaukee via Air Flight.”

Damn. Emergency surgery was not a good sign. Especially emergency open heart surgery, after a full arrest and resuscitation. Seth’s shoulders slumped and he scrubbed a hand over his face. “I see. I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from the cardiothoracic team in Milwaukee yet?”

Michael shook his head. “No, but I’ve been busy. I just finished my last case for the day.”

Seth understood. He’d been busy, too. The hospital census had been jumping lately, and the ED in particular had been one nonstop revolving door.

“Seth, she’s not your mother,” Michael said softly.

“I know.” His sharp response caused Michael to raise his brows in surprise. Michael, along with many other hospital staff members, had attended the funeral. Seth had appreciated his colleague’s support through the difficult time. “My mother didn’t die of a heart attack. She had an aneurysm in her brain. But Marilyn is the same age, and I just wish we’d been quick enough to save her.”

“You were.” Michael clapped his hand on Seth’s shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “We’ve given her a chance, Seth. Not just once, after you brought her back in the ED, but now again, in surgery. She could have died in the ambulance on the way over, or in the ED, or in the cath lab—but she didn’t.”

“Yeah.” Yet with each setback her chances of survival grew slimmer. Seth knew his friend was right, but he couldn’t get over the feeling that their efforts hadn’t been good enough. Second-guessing yourself wasn’t always helpful, though, so he tried to change the subject. “I hope you’ve been practicing your pitching. The big baseball game is only a week away.”

Michael grinned. “As a matter of fact I have. Don’t worry, we have a good chance of winning.”

The Cedar Bluff Hospital’s annual baseball game had become a highly competitive event. Each year the nurses challenged the physicians, and despite the gender differences—there were generally more women nurses than men, and more male physicians than female—the games were very close. The winning team got free meals in the hospital cafeteria for a month. Not that he really cared about the food, but Seth did like to win.

His motto was to live in the moment. Because life was too short for regrets.

“Do you want to head out to the batting cage?” Michael asked.

Seth glanced at his watch. “Not tonight. Maybe this weekend, though.”

“You’re on,” Michael agreed. “See you later, then.”

“Later,” Seth echoed as he turned and strode toward the parking lot.

On the way home Seth’s thoughts lingered on Kylie Germaine. He didn’t like to be conceited, but it wasn’t often he was shot down so completely at a first meeting. Women generally liked him. Too bad she was already in a relationship, because he hadn’t felt that spark of attraction for anyone in a long time.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he headed for his condo, located just ten minutes from the hospital. He needed to forget about Kylie. There were always plenty of women to go out with. He’d never stayed with anyone for more than a few weeks anyway. There was a new nurse who’d started recently—what was her name? Cherry? Or Cheri? But even as he tried to picture the new nurse working up on the second floor he couldn’t seem to dredge up his usual enthusiasm.

For some peculiar reason his libido seemed stuck on a particular honey-blonde who clearly wasn’t interested.

Kylie woke up feeling a bit grumpy as she’d suffered a restless night’s sleep—which was all Seth’s fault, since his wicked smile had haunted her dreams.

Seth? Seth? What was wrong with her? What had happened to Dr. Taylor? She always addressed physicians by their formal title of Doctor—mostly because she felt that four years of premed, followed by four years of medical school, followed by even more years of residency and fellowship training meant they’d earned the title and deserved every bit of respect that went along with it.

So when had Dr. Taylor become Seth in her mind?

Muttering “Dr. Taylor” under her breath several times, in an effort to get his proper title embedded in her memory, she quickly showered and dressed.

Ben was eating a bowl of dry cereal when she dragged herself into the kitchen. “Don’t you want some milk with that?” she asked.

Ben gave a good-natured shrug. “Okay.”

She smiled and reached into the fridge. She was so lucky to have Ben. He was easygoing and happy to help himself to whatever food he wanted without being too picky about it.

“Am I going to day care today?” Ben wanted to know, once she’d doused his cornflakes with milk.

“No, I thought we’d stay home, since I have the day off.”

For the summer, she’d enrolled Ben in a day care learning center, hoping he’d get to meet some of the other kids prior to school starting in just a few weeks. But, thanks to the shift she’d picked up last Saturday, she had today—Thursday—off. Her plans were to spend a couple of hours researching hypothermia protocols, so that she would have something ready to show Seth—Dr. Taylor—when they met next week. She’d thought it would be nice to work from home for a change.

For a moment Ben almost looked disappointed about not going to day care, but when he finished his cereal he scampered into the living room to turn on cartoons.

She ate a small bowl of cereal, too, while waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. She poured herself a steaming mug before heading to the small office she’d set up in the third bedroom. With any luck she could discover what other hospitals and paramedic units had done before Ben tired of the Cartoon Network.

Thank heavens for cable.

Ben showed up in the doorway fifteen minutes later. “Mom, can I have some apple juice?”

She glanced up from her computer and nodded. “Yes. But don’t forget the rule. All food and drinks stay in the kitchen.”

Ben rolled his eyes and left. No more than five minutes later he was back. “Mom, the top of the pitcher is stuck. I can’t get the apple juice out.”

“I’ll get it for you.” She saved her work on the computer before heading into the kitchen. After prying up the stuck lid of the pitcher, she poured Ben’s glass of juice and then returned to her office.

“Mom, can I go outside to swing on the swing set?” Ben asked a few minutes later.

She stifled a sigh. Ben was only six, and a short attention span came along with the territory. Besides, she could see the swing set in the front yard from her office window. She smiled at him. “Sure, but make sure you wear a jacket.” Cedar Bluff was located close to the shores of Lake Michigan, and often the breeze off the lake was cooler than inland temperatures, even now in late summer. Knowing her son, he’d wear the jacket, but shed it the first chance he got.

She heard his footsteps go to the coat closet, and then heard the door slam behind him on his way outside. She breathed a little sigh of relief. Okay, now that Ben was outside maybe she could get this protocol started. When she heard the door slam again, a few minutes later, she braced herself.

“Mom, can I go over to Joey’s house to play?”

She hesitated. “Is Joey’s mom there to watch you?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll ask.” Ben turned as if to rush out.

“Wait a minute, I’ll come with you.”

There was no sense in sitting there while Ben ran out and then back in again. She followed Ben outside. Joey Clairmont’s house was the next house over to the right. She could see Joey riding his bike in the driveway, and also noted that Joey’s older sister, Jenny, was sitting outside on the front porch, playing Barbies with another little girl.

Then she saw Missy Clairmont sitting outside in a lawn chair, chatting with someone on her cell phone. They’d met when Kylie had moved in last month, although she hadn’t seen much of her chatty neighbor since starting her new job two weeks ago. Kylie waved at Missy, who acknowledged her with a smile and a wave back.

Satisfied that Missy was there to supervise the kids, she granted her permission. “Sure, Ben. Go ahead. You can play with Joey.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Ben ran over to Joey. The boy got off his bike and the two of them began talking, their heads close together, no doubt comparing notes on their latest trading cards.

She headed back to her office, feeling a little guilty over her plans to work. Maybe she should just scrap the whole idea of starting on the hypothermia protocol and spend the day with Ben instead?

Sighing, she rested her chin on her hand. Okay, the hypothermia protocol needed to be done—not to mention revamping the entire paramedic training program. She was being paid extra to have this level of responsibility, and that meant she needed to live up to her bosses’ expectations. She’d give herself a couple hours to work on it this morning, and then make it up to Ben later. Maybe she could take Ben and Joey to the movies? There was a Disney film that had come out a week or so ago that Ben would love to see. Maybe they’d even splurge and ruin their dinner with a huge bucket of popcorn.

Feeling better, Kylie turned her attention back to the hypothermia protocol. She found several examples, and began printing them out to see what the similarities and differences were. She’d set up some meetings with the other ED physicians, too, and had received some good feedback.

Not one of them had even looked at her twice on a personal level—much less tried to hit on her the way Seth had.

Dr. Taylor. Get it through your head. He’s Dr. Taylor!

She buried her persistent thoughts of Dr. Taylor and concentrated on her work. There were really only very minor differences in the two hypothermia protocols she’d gotten from other sources. Maybe this wouldn’t take long to create at all.

A shrill scream split the air.

Ben? She sucked in a breath and sprang to her feet, running toward the living room. Through the picture window she saw a red bike crumpled beneath the back bumper of a car in the street outside Joey’s house.

Dear God. A red bike. Ben’s bike!

She tore outside, running straight to the scene of the accident. Her heart pounded in her chest and her vision went cloudy when she saw Ben’s body sprawled on the asphalt, half under the car.

“Owwwww,” he wailed.

“I’m sorry, lady, I didn’t see him,” the male driver of the car said, looking pale. “I called 911. They’re sending an ambulance.”

“Thanks. Shh, Ben. It’s all right, I’m here.” Kylie blinked, fighting to keep from losing control—especially when she saw the deep gash over Ben’s left eye. Blood was everywhere, and she had to remind herself that head wounds always bled like crazy. Ben was also holding his left arm protectively across his chest. “I need some towels to put pressure on his head wound,” she said to the group of onlookers who’d gathered around. She barely noticed when someone dashed off to the house, her attention focused on her son. “Don’t move, honey. I need a minute to examine you.”

She reached under the car, feeling his extremities. “Does your neck hurt? Or your back?” she asked.

“N-no. Just my—head and—my arm,” Ben said between hiccupping sobs.

He was talking, and making sense, which went a long way to easing her panic. After ruling out a neck or back injury, she eased Ben from beneath the car, wincing at the copious amount of blood coating his face and soaking his shirt.

Missy Clairmont, Joey’s mother, returned with an armload of towels, babbling about how she was so sorry, she hadn’t realized the boys had taken their bikes out into the road, and she’d only run inside for a minute to use the bathroom. Kylie didn’t respond except to nod at her, using one towel to hold pressure over Ben’s eye and the other to mop up the worst of the blood.

Her hands were shaking.

In the distance she heard sirens, and knew help was on the way. She crushed Ben close, knowing she needed to check his pupils for signs of concussion but also needed to stem the bleeding from the cut over his eye, so he didn’t lose too much blood. Rattled, she couldn’t decide which threat was worse.

When the paramedics arrived, she was relieved they took control of the medical situation, leaving her to simply hold Ben in a comforting embrace. In mere minutes they had Ben bundled up and ready for transport.

No one argued when she climbed into the ambulance with him.

“His pupils are reactive, but the left one is larger than the right,” Randal, one of the older paramedics, said. “And I think he has a radial fracture in his left arm.”

A concussion and a fracture didn’t seem too bad, but Kylie knew that it was possible Ben’s head injury could be worse than it looked. The only way to measure if he was bleeding into his brain was through a CT scan.

She clung to Ben’s hand as they wound through the streets toward Cedar Bluff Hospital. She wondered if Seth was the physician on duty today.

She didn’t know very many of the Cedar Bluff ED physicians yet, but she did know Seth. And she didn’t want a stranger caring for her son.

Seth glanced at his pager to get the details of the most recent trauma call. Six-year-old boy hit by a car. VSS. ETA two minutes.

“Victoria, put this kid in the trauma room, okay?” he called to the nurse in charge.

She raised a brow. “His vitals are stable.”

“I don’t care. I want him in the trauma room.” Seth would rather overreact than underestimate how sick a patient might be. Any child hit by a car had the potential to go bad in a hurry.

Seconds later Leila Ross, one of the general surgeons who’d cross-trained as a trauma surgeon, walked in. “Hear you have a peds patient on the way?”

“We do.” Seth glanced at Leila, smiling at the petite surgeon who was lucky enough to be carrying the trauma pager for the day. “His vitals are stable, though.”

“Good.” Leila headed over to the sink to wash her hands and he watched for a moment, admiring her silky straight black hair, pulled back into a long braid. Leila was beautiful in an ethereal way, but as much as he’d enjoyed her company on the few dates they’d had, there hadn’t really been a spark of attraction between them. Since they shared a mutual respect of each other’s abilities, though, they’d decided they were better off remaining friends.

Besides, he’d often sensed Leila’s dark troubled gaze held secrets she wasn’t willing to share.

The doors to the trauma bay burst open and their newest arrival was wheeled in. It took him only two seconds to recognize Kylie, although she wasn’t in her usual paramedic uniform. She wore a soft butter-yellow sweater smeared with blood and a pair of figure-hugging jeans.

“Six-year-old hit by a car while riding his bike. He has a laceration over his left eye and a minor concussion. His pupils are unequal but react to light.” A tall male paramedic rattled off the detailed information. “He also has a possible fracture in his left arm.”

Seth stepped forward to lift the blood-soaked towels to see the laceration, and winced when he saw the gap was large enough that he could see all the way into the child’s orbital eye socket. “Back or neck pain?”

“Ben denies back or neck pain,” Kylie said.

The paramedic glanced at her, and then added, “Ben has some minor scrapes on his left leg, but no other obvious signs of injury. The vehicle was backing up, so it wasn’t going very fast.”

He noticed the way Kylie clung to the boy’s hand. “We’ll need to get a stat CT of his head, and X-rays of his extremities, but I want to stitch up that head wound first.”

Kylie paled at his words, but didn’t let go as she met Seth’s gaze. “I’m staying.”

“Are you his mother?” he asked.

When she nodded, he didn’t show his surprise, but took her arm to draw her away from the bedside. She reluctantly let go of Ben’s hand.

“Is Ben’s father on his way, too?” he asked, thinking that Kylie could use some support.

“No. His father left a long time ago.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, with no sign of bitterness.

“Is there someone else I can call for you?” he persisted. “A friend? Anyone to be here so you don’t have to go through this alone?”

“No, there isn’t anyone to call. We just moved here a few weeks ago.” She was barely paying attention to him, her gaze going back to her son. “I’m fine,” she insisted, tugging to free herself from his grip. “But I’d really like to be there while you stitch him up.”

Sometimes parents didn’t do well when they stayed to watch, but knowing Kylie’s paramedic background he quickly relented. “All right,” he agreed, releasing her arm.

Kylie didn’t hesitate, but went straight back to Ben’s bedside, taking his hand and leaning down to press a soft kiss on her son’s forehead.

Seth knew Kylie was distraught. She hadn’t caught her slip-up, but he had.

She didn’t have a man in her life.

But she did have a son.

Seth let out a sigh. He loved women, and loved having fun, but a family—especially a single mother with a young son—wasn’t a part of his future.

He strode to Ben’s bedside, calling for the facial suture tray, realizing Kylie was very much off-limits.

At least for him.

Marrying the Playboy Doctor

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